In pursuit of overdue parental hugs, I ran full speed with two rolling bags and an overstuffed backpack through Hartsfield-Jackson Atlanta International Airport, until I face-planted in the middle of baggage claim. I've got the bruises to show for it.
That's right, I'm back in the United States of America.
I came home to sweet tea in the fridge and my favorite Mexican restaurant. Side-note: The dish I used to be able to scarf down was only a fourth finished — #AmericanServingSizes.
Everything seemed exactly how I had left it, Southern and very American.
I am aware that not much has changed and this life that I've come back to is what made me happy before I left, but there is something that transformed in me the moment my feet left American soil.
Americans are a unique breed of their own. There is no other place in the world that is like this country, and I mean that in both positive and negative ways.
Before you check out and close this tab, understand that I am not trying to bash American culture. I love my country, but like anywhere else in the world, we have our issues.
There's a lovely phenomenon referred to as reverse culture shock, which smacks world travelers across the face after their long-awaited homecoming. I was not an exception. Some would like to make this a far bigger hurdle, but that isn't to say this feeling is nonexistent.
Each person is different in how they cope with reverse culture shock. Some bury themselves in work, others resort to negative feelings towards their home, and some prefer seclusion. These are not the only coping mechanisms but some of the more prominent.
In my situation, I found it overwhelming to come back to the same life I've always lived and feel like a completely different person. An outsider, per se.
I found myself looking down on those around me for complaining about petty issues. I'm was born loud, proud and unafraid to divulge my opinions — like most Americans — but I've found myself holding my tongue and rolling my eyes.
I'm assuming the reason why I'm keeping my mouth shut for the first time is that I'm outnumbered. Americans are loud and exuberant and outspoken and strong willed. Coming home after three months abroad is like running out of the Jordan-Hare Stadium tunnel on a game day.
Imagine being able to hear every word coming from all 87,451 mouths.
Americans are fed a constant stream of political scandals, movie star drama, sports stats and most importantly, unnecessary information to crowd our already overworked noggins. Taking a sabbatical from the life Americans' live is like laying on the beach after fighting rocky ocean waves for hours.
There are undeniable positives that are bundled with being American and living in this country, but that is not to say that every single one of us shouldn't care what is happening on the other side of the world. It's unbelievably easy to forget the other seven billion people in the world when we are constantly self-absorbed.
One way we can achieve the title "The Greatest Country in the World," a title most Americans have used when describing their home, is to continue striving to understand the world that we live in. The moment that we close ourselves off or start to believe that we don't have to understand what lies beyond our coasts is the moment we become the selfish, lazy country some outsiders believe we are.
We have the ability to reverse the stereotypes, and we can do that by becoming more self aware. After this summer of travel, I've found that awareness comes from looking from the outside in.
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